


The Fearless Four

by orphan_account



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Other, short and sweet, these bastards need love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26735659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just some short and soft /one-shots featuring reader and the Fearsome Four.Short and soft fics for the soul.
Relationships: Liquidator/Reader, Megavolt (Disney)/Reader, Quackerjack/Reader, Reginald Bushroot/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. Floral Warmth (Bushroot)

Gray clouds hung low as thunder roared across the city. Wet fabric clung to your body and mud covered your boots. Cars honked as they drove past, water splashing your side. Your heart shriveled with dread as you trudged along the sidewalk, the cold wind gnawing at your face like some infernal mite.  
  
So much for a beautiful, sunny day. _Thanks, St. Canard weather report._  
  
With every step forward, you felt your eyes grow heavier. Your breath rattled as you fought against the raging storm. But despite your attempts, despite your spirit, you couldn’t shake off your exhaustion, which filled your mind until it was numb. Several moments later, you slipped and fell upon the concrete, whimpering and writhing in agony. You lacked the strength to return to your feet. Hell, you couldn’t even think. Droplets of rain pounded against your skull, the storm acting as a hypnotic ambiance.  
  
Before your eyes could close, however, the ground shook with quick vibrations. Below the thunder, you heard doglike pants. Slowly, you looked up, a bolt of lightening illuminating the outline of the venus fly trap that stood above you.  
  
You groaned.  
  
“Spike...”  
  
The latter returned the plaintive greeting by licking your face.  
  
As night drew on, so did the thunderstorm. But with Spike’s support, you managed to arrive at the greenhouse sooner than you previously expected. As you opened the door, the fresh aroma of rich and various fauna swept into your nostrils, instilling you with an immediate sense of comfort. Although you felt guilty leaving a wet trail behind you wherever you walked, the sight of the plant-duck working frantically at his desk prompted you to grin.  
  
Overjoyed, Spike scurried over to his master. Bushroot turned, holding two, bubbling test tubes within his leafy hands.  
  
“Spike! You’re alright!” He smiled, flinching as the flytrap shook water droplets off his form. “Did you get the samples I needed, boy?”  
  
Spike whimpered and pointed his muzzle in your direction. When Bushroot’s gaze fixated upon you, he dropped the experimental tubes, the glass shattering and contents spilling all across the floor.  
  
“Oh, NO!” His palms fled to his face. “No, no! No! My poor dear! What happened to you?”  
  
He rushed over to you, fumbling and stuttering as Spike followed, yapping. “A-Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere? What were you doing? What were you thinking? Being out in a freak storm like this one? I, I!-“  
  
And to think, this nervous soul attempted to transform you into a plant only a few weeks ago.  
  
“Bushroot!” You grasped his hands, offering him a smile. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.”  
  
Spike crooned, rubbing against your side. After brief moments, the male calmed as you squeezed his leaves in a gentle, soothing manner. He’s grown more accustomed to your touch ever since you started dating the fellow.  
  
“Yeah, well, we still need to dry you off! Uh, here! Let me get you a towel!”  
  
Hastily, he removed himself from your hold. But before he could retrieve anything, you tapped him on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks.  
  
You glanced down, shyly, the dampness of your shirt and pants chilling you to the bone. “How about a towel and something to wear?”  
  
Bushroot stiffened, a blush coating his green features as he eyed your wet clothes.   
  
“Um, sure thing, my love! Since you’re so cold, and I want to, uh, w-warm you up!”  
  
And then there was the awkward laugh, one which you learned to cherish so dearly.  
  
Due to the commotion, you caught the attention of other plant life, who aided Bushroot by supplying you with a towel and a spare lab coat _(the only article of clothing he had, apparently)_. After guiding you to the back of the greenhouse lab, he promptly exited and gave you your privacy.  
  
You stripped yourself of your soaked attire and sighed with relief, the itch from the constant chafing gradually diminishing. After drying yourself off, you grabbed the lab coat and inspected it. The material was soft and dusted with pollen. Shrugging, you dressed yourself.   
  
“Spike! C’mon, you guys! No peeking! Seriously!”  
  
You couldn’t help but openly chuckle because you already spotted Bushroot attempting to do the same.  
  
Although the lab coat left some skin exposed, it covered just enough of your chest and crotch. Besides, it was quite warm. Pleased, you returned to the plant duck and sneezed, urging him it was safe to turn around.  
  
“How do I look?”  
  
Spike barked his approval while multiple trees used their wooden fingers to send you a “thumbs-up”. Bushroot didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stumbled over his words as his eyes widened, his face flushing.  
  
“You...I-I, uh, you look...”  
  
Spike slapped him.  
  
“You look very nice, my darling daisy.”  
  
The crash of thunder began to recede. Bushroot invited you to spend the night with him, and you happily agreed. Exhausted but content, you rested upon a bed of moss, stroking Spike’s plant muzzle as he snoozed atop your thighs. Eventually, Bushroot appeared with a hot cup of liquid.  
  
“Hey.” He kept his voice at a whisper. “I made tea for you! The camellia gals were kind enough to lend me some of their leaves.” He blew a puff of air, ridding the steam before handing the drink to you. “I hope you like it!”  
  
You took a sip, the mellow freshness causing your muscles to relax.  
  
“It’s delicious.” You held his hand. “Thank you, hon.”  
  
Bushroot giggled bashfully.  
  
Soon enough, the lights were dimmed. After minutes of affectionate coaxing, your lover joined you in the moss bed, his leafy arms wrapped around your torso and his chest pressed against your ear. Despite being half-plant, you could still feel the steady beat of his heart.  
  
Then you heard a mumble.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
You tilted your head to where you could see his blue eyes. They were no longer sad, but glistening with tender adoration.  
  
“I...well,” he chuckled, “...I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that didn’t turn out so well, did it?”  
  
You lifted yourself with a smile, running your fingers through his lavender, foliage-like hair.  
  
“Oh, Reggie, you’re alright.”  
  
You leaned forward, your lips grazing his beak.  
  
_“I love you, too.”_


	2. Waterlogged Cuddles (Liquidator)

The clock read 3:00 AM exactly. Normal folks would be fast asleep by now. Unfortunately for you, your dry throat had other plans.

You smacked your lips as you swiped a cup from the counter and reached for the kitchen sink. But when you turned the knob, you felt resistance. You applied more pressure, shouting out of frustration until a dog head bursted through the faucet. Startled, you fell back and landed on your rear, grunting.

Right, you got a new roommate _(who never paid his share of rent in full)._

“Liquidator.”

The dog released a triumphant laugh, then fully emerging from the faucet.

“That’s right, sweetheart!” He lowered himself to cup your chin with his watery paw, the cold touch urging you to shiver. “Are you tired of living a dull, pointless life? Then give your buddy Liquidator a call! Trade your isolation for association!”

He winked.

“This is quite a bargain, wouldn’t you agree?”

You frowned and retracted yourself from his grasp. “Don’t you ever get tired of the whole “salesman” dialogue shtick?”

His smile widened.

“Nope!”

With a sigh, you stood from the tile floor and rubbed your temples.

“God. I just wanted water.”

In all honesty, you shouldn’t have said a word. Again, Liquidator loomed over you, delighted.

“Thirsty? Then why not try the Liquidator’s pristine water?” He bubbled, flushing his body out for emphasis. “It’s all-natural, you know!”

Your nose wrinkled. Pretty adjectives wouldn’t sway you; drinking your roommate’s essence sounded downright disgusting.

“Uh, no thanks.” You drowsily brushed him away, glancing at the kitchen sink. “I really don’t want you inside me right now.”

There was a pause as you processed the words that left your mouth. Then your cheeks began to burn.

_“Ah!_ Then what about later? The night is still young, my dear!”

You buried your face into your hands and groaned, unable to even look at him.

“Are you having dirty thoughts? In that case, I’ll happily toss a bar of soap into the deal!”

Irritated, you lifted your face and gritted your teeth at him, trying to appear as apathetic as possible _(but failing miserably)._

“I-I didn’t mean that! I’m not having any dirty thoughts! You KNOW it!”

Liquidator pounced forward, giving you a cocky grin.

_“Somehow I don’t find that believable, doll!_ ”

Shoved past your limits, you lunged at him, ready to slap him. But, to no surprise at all, your hand went directly through his chest. For a long, breathless moment, the two of you were completely silent. Then you freed your hand, but didn’t move away from the dog. Inquisitive, you started to stroke his watery pelt.

Was showing affection to a mutant criminal a result of sleep deprivation? Possibly. Regardless, you continued to pet him, enjoying the sensation of cool water lapping at your fingertips.

“Huh?” Liquidator jumped a bit, breaking his character and sending you a nervous look. “H-Hey now! Doll!-“

Your hand slowed.

“Sorry. Should I stop?”

The male blinked, pondering for a second before suddenly regaining himself.

“Definitely not!” He then engulfed you in a wet, tight hold, adjusting his position to where his head rested between your thighs, his arms wrapped around your waist. “9/10 doctors recommend cuddling; it is an essential part of a healthy relationship!”

The male submitted to your touch, his body becoming warmer. It wasn’t hot, but welcoming. And it was just perfect for you.

“But be warned!” he said with a hint of mischief, lifting a finger. “This is a limited time offer!”

Although he was crooked, it was nice to know that he still enjoyed pets. You snickered, rubbing his ear between your thumb and forefinger.

_“Liar.”_

Liquidator said nothing, but sunk further into your embrace, his eyes closing while a blissful smile overtook his blue features.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you remained in the kitchen with him. But when you stirred from slumber, you were back in your bed. As you glanced to your counter, you found an untouched bottle of water, and heard the splashes of footsteps fading away.

|   
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	3. Wired Hearts (Megavolt)

Slowly, patiently, you walked down the hall of prison, a rotten odor lingering at the back of your throat. Walls cracked and lights flickered. The floor was damp with spit from the city’s most nefarious criminals.  
  
_Damn. Darkwing Duck was really getting to you._  
  
At a corner, you stopped and faced the guard who was accompanying you.  
  
“Alright, I think I’m good now. I really don’t need you to follow me anymore.”  
  
The guard grimaced.  
  
“You sure about this? He’s locked-up for a reason, you know.”  
  
You dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand.  
  
“Yes, I know. But he won’t hurt me. I trust him.” You smiled. _“He’s my boyfriend for a reason, you know.”_  
  
You ignored his scoff and quickly turned the corner, a giddy hop in your step as you continued down the path to your beloved. A minute later, you arrived at a familiar cell and grinned. Through the transparent barrier, the rodent sulked on his bed. Posters of differing electrical appliances decorated his walls while pairs of dirty socks littered the floor.  
  
You hummed. The orange prison uniform complimented his slender figure. He lacked his signature gloves and headpiece, but he still possessed his goggles.  
  
You knocked on the glass.  
  
“H-Huh?” Megavolt sat up. When his beady eyes focused on you, a chuckle left your lips.  
  
“Hey, Megs.”  
  
His face brightened. Hastily, he hopped off his mattress and shuffled towards the barrier, his whiskered muzzle touching the transparent barrier before his palms did. He stuttered your name as if he couldn’t believe your presence was authentic.  
  
“It’s _you!”_ His ragged voice was muffled. “You actually came for me!”  
  
Then his nose twitched. “Hmph!” He folded his arms and turned away, pouting. “Well, it sure took _YOU_ long enough. I was beginning to think I just made you up!”  
  
You snickered. “Oh, don’t be like that. I know you’re happy to see me.”  
  
Megavolt stiffened. His arms fell slightly and he glanced back to you. By the way his lips wriggled, you knew he was fighting the urge to smile.  
  
“Well, anyways,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a deck of cards. “Wanna play?”  
  
The latter paused for a moment. Then he sighed.  
  
“Alright.” He flicked his hand. “Hand em’ over.”  
  
After sliding the cards beneath the barrier, the two of you sat cross-legged and commenced the game.  
  
After several rounds, you realized that prison life was wasn’t too terrible to your lover. He wouldn’t be in his cell forever. After all, he was a villain. He would be out liberating lightbulbs again someday. He would be fine.  
  
As for the card game, you were winning, mostly, much to his disappointment.  
  
“You have any threes?”  
  
“Go fish.”  
  
“Liar!”  
  
“Hush up, Sparky.”  
  
“OOOH! DON’T CALL ME THAT, BABE!”  
  
You burst out into laughter, tears stinging the ends of your eyes. Megavolt blinked, peering oddly at you before delving into his own fit of giggles. Together you caused such a ruckus that another prisoner shouted for the two of you to shut up.  
  
Eventually, as you gathered your breath, you cocked your head at your boyfriend and smirked.  
  
“What?”  
  
He rolled his shoulders. “Oh, nothing.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Guess I just missed hearing your laugh.”  
  
His cheeks went pink, the realization of his words settling in. You smiled.  
  
“I missed hearing yours, too.”  
  
You exhaled and stood, gazing at the large, red button near the end of the cell’s walls. Without much thought, driven by pure emotion, you leaned forward and pressed it.  
  
The barrier was lifted. The alarm blared throughout the halls. Megavolt performed a double-take, staring at you as if you completely lost yourself.  
  
“Hey-Hey! What are you doing? You’re gonna get in trouble for this! _Uh, right?”_  
  
“Eh.” You shrugged. “Don’t care.”  
  
Your grin stretched to a smile as you rushed into the cell and brought the rat into a warm, firm hug. For a brief second, he flinched. But just as you loosened your hold, he returned the hug, tightly, gripping the back of your shirt as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.  
  
_He really did miss you._  
  
“You’re the light of my life.” You pulled away to send him a wink. “You’re the perfect switch, too, you really _turn me on.”_  
  
Megavolt’s face burned red and he squeaked, his mouth agape.  
  
You laughed.  
  
“Shocked you there, huh, _Sparky?”_  
  
Then his eyes twitched in irritation. Before he could protest, however, you tilted your head to avoid his buck teeth and pressed your lips to his. Almost immediately, you felt him melt. He was by no means a great kisser, but his movements and moans were _very much appealing_.  
  
After a few moments, you withdrew yourself, witnessing his pupils bloom into hearts as he wobbled with pleasure.  
  
“I’ll, uh...probably let the whole _“Sparky thing”_ slide if you do that again...”  
  
Once more, you kissed him, ignoring the shouts of the incoming guards.


	4. Just a While Longer (Quackerjack)

You opened your eyes to the sound of slow, hypnotic footsteps. Your head throbbed and your stomach grumbled in agony. Gradually, you pieced the colorful face above you. When your vision cleared, you recognized the massive duckbill and jester mask. _It was him._ He was carrying you bridal-style, walking you down the stairs of your house.

Your face grew hot.  
  
“...Quackerjack?”  
  
He grinned, large and wide, teeth shining against the faint light.  
  
“The one and only, _your highness!_ It’s a real pleasure to see you again.” He faltered, the fringes of his mask lowering. “Although, I wish it was during better circumstances.”  
  
You tilted your head. Then it came back to you. That’s right; you were sick. No, not body sick, but sick in the mind, at least for tonight. This wasn’t the first time he arrived unknowingly at your household. But you certainly didn’t hate him for it. In fact, you were rather touched. The only man, the only _individual_ you trusted with accepting your mental instability was him.  
  
The duck’s hold on you tightened before he hopped off the staircase and placed you gently upon the couch. You sighed as he sat next to you, grateful but guilty.  
  
“Q.J., you should really go back to...well...wherever you came from.”  
  
Your voice was hoarse, evidence that you were screaming a few minutes before.  
  
Quackerjack shoved a gloved hand to his chest, gasping. “And leave my friend to suffer alone? Please! _Perish_ the thought!”  
  
The male retrieved his puppet pal and spoke in a higher pitch. “Trust us! There’s no place we’d rather be!”  
  
You snickered, lightly bopping Mr. Banana Brain on his nose before turning away and resting your back over the arm of couch. It was uncomfortable, but you didn’t care much.  
  
“C’mon now,” you muttered, “you don’t really mean that.”  
  
Just as your eyes became lidded, you felt the rim of a glass press against your lips. Quackerjack smiled as he watched you sip the cool water without a struggle, regaining your fluids.  
  
For what seemed like hours, he stayed with you, telling you jokes, making you laugh, thumbing away your tears, making sure you didn’t feel alone. Quackerjack was a criminal, a villain, a crazy and unpredictable one at that.  
  
But he was also your friend, your _crush_ even. You wouldn’t trade him for all the happiness in the universe.  
  
“Stay with me,” you whispered as you began to drift off, snuggling against his chest. “Please, just a little longer.”  
  
Quackerjack‘s eyes softened as he continued to stroke your hair, the fingers of his other hand intertwining with yours.  
  
Eventually, you fell asleep. But then you felt something fluffy brush against your cheek. When you fully aroused from slumber, there was no sign of Quackerjack, except for Mr. Banana Brain, who was nestled safely in your arms.


End file.
